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Dad shot me one more hard look before turning and leaving, slamming shut the bedroom door behind him. The staff was still there, the pair of men quickly folding my clothes and putting them into my suitcase.
I stepped over to the big, arched window that looked out over the back sweep of the compound from my third floor bedroom, the garden neatly arranged below, the thick barrier of trees that surrounded the property beyond that.
I started to cry. I felt so damn helpless there wasn’t anything else I could think to do. The staff ignored me, thankfully, either too professional or perhaps scared of Dad if they were to be perceived of butting in to say anything.
Rain pattered down on the windows. All I wanted was to throw them open and leap onto the soft grass below and keep running until I was long gone, until I was free. The notion filled me with excitement and fear all at once.
Before I could give the matter too much thought, a firm knock sounded at the door. Fear gripped me at the idea of my father returning.
“It’s me,niña,” said the voice from the other side. “Are you OK?”
Relief washed over me as I realized it was Marta. I hurried over to the door, wiping my eyes and turning the knob. Short, slender and strong-willed Marta Velazquez stood on the other side. Her hair was comprised of close, tight curls of dark red and her eyes looked at me from behind large, round glasses. It didn’t take long for her to figure out what was going on, there was no sense in trying to pull the wool over her eyes. There never was.
“Thattirano,” she snarled, stepping in and preparing to shut the door behind her.She quickly noticed the staff, however, and barked out orders for them to leave. They dutifully obeyed.
Once they were gone and we were alone, I let the tears flow.
“Oh,pobre niña.” She wrapped her arms around me, my head falling onto her shoulder as I wept. “I could hear his voice from all the way downstairs. I’m so sorry this is happening to you.”
She held me as I cried, so many tears coming from me in such a short time.
“I just don’t know what to do. I feel so helpless.” I raised my head, Marta quickly grabbing the tissues from my bedside table and handing them over to me.
“You know that’s just how he wants you to feel, right?” she asked. “That’s how he works—he makes you feel small so he can feel big.”
I blew my nose, and Marta led me over to the edge of the bed to sit.
“Let me do the packing,” she said. “I can’t believe he put a pair of men in charge of packing for a young woman.”
She went to work, expressing her distaste as she pulled clothes out of the bag and set them aside before heading into the closet to find what she considered more suitable.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Marta,” I said, staring off into space. “Is this really happening?”
Marta sighed, pausing her search for a moment. “It’s really happening. What your father has planned, exactly, I don’t know. But I overheard him speaking yesterday with this Mr. Stone.”
“Mr. Stone.” I whispered the name. Other than what I had read in the tabloids, the man was a mystery for the time being. That would all change very soon.
“What do you know about this guy?” I asked Marta. “Is he some rich jerk who thinks he can have whatever he wants?”
“Mr. Stone… he is rich, I can say that much. I havefamiliain the city who work for him. He is wealthy as they come, more money than a hundred of yourpadre. And he is…” She trailed off, once more pausing her gathering of my belongings.
“What?” I rose slowly, turning toward her as I came over to help find clothes.
Marta smiled sightly. “He is…muy guapo. Hell, he’s more than that, he’s freaking hot as hell.”
I gasped. “Marta!”
She shrugged, handing me a pair of jeans. “What can I say? I’d show you a picture, but you know how your father is with staff having their phones during work.”
“He’s handsome?” I asked. “And what else? You said you have family who work for him? They must have said something about him at some point.”
“They have. Mr. Stone is very ambitious. I mean,veryambitious. The company was willed to him by his father years ago when he passed. Back then, they were a small-time investment firm, still worth millions, but otherwise a very small fish in a very big pond. Mr. Stone, when he took over, brought the company to the next level, expanding out of New York, turning it into an international company worthbillions.”
“Wow.” The idea of having something of my own like that was hard to wrap my head around. “He sounds… interesting.”
“Other than that, he appears to be a good boss. He’s tough but fair, always does things above board.”
“He does? Then how did he get mixed up with someone like my father?”
